


And the Phone Rings On

by jooliewrites



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Episode: s01e09 Death Doesn't Let You Say Goodbye, M/M, POV Hernando
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 02:39:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4162530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jooliewrites/pseuds/jooliewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The apartment’s dark when Hernando enters. Blinds drawn and windows shut tight. He draws the shades and opens the windows wide, letting the afternoon sun pour in. A light breeze blows through, taking most of the stale air out with it. </p><p>Hernando stands in the center and, with an eye on the thick layer of dust lining the bookshelves, tries to remember the last time he’d stood in this space.</p><p>+</p><p>(Or what Hernando was doing while Lito was calling him...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	And the Phone Rings On

**Author's Note:**

> So, I couldn't stop thinking about what Hernando was doing while Lito called him incessantly…  
> Just a short episode coda. Hope you all enjoy,  
> -Jules xoxo

The apartment’s dark when Hernando enters. Blinds drawn and windows shut tight. He draws the shades and opens the windows wide, letting the afternoon sun pour in. A light breeze blows through, taking most of the stale air out with it. 

Hernando stands in the center and, with an eye on the thick layer of dust lining the bookshelves, tries to remember the last time he’d stood in this space.

Technically speaking, this is his official address. His driver’s license has this address. Credit card bills, insurance, taxes, and the like all come here. His mother even sends birthday cards to this place but he can’t remember the last time he slid his key into that door. 

He used to come by more often - checking up on the apartment and his neighbors, making sure everything was still as it should be. Now, he’d gotten into the habit of breezing through the lobby every few days to pick up his mail before continuing on his way. Putting this whole place in the back of his mind; not to be dwelled upon or considered. Out of sight and all that.

Wandering the apartment now, taking in the books and pieces and clothing that had never made their way over to Lito’s, Hernando realizes it hadn’t been his busy schedule that kept him from making the short journey upstairs on mail runs. It had been resentment that kept him grounded in the lobby. Resentment that he still cuts a check for this space every month. Resentment that he had just nodded in agreement when Lito suggested he kept this place. Resentment that he spent time building a home he had no real right to. Resentment that he and Lito could share a bed but they couldn’t share an address.

Hernando wrenches open the pantry door just to have a reason to slam it shut. 

When the slam of the door echoes through the space, Hernando doesn’t feel the jolt of satisfaction he expected. He just feels stupid. 

+

The first night passes in a daze and he wakes the next day reaching for Lito. When he finds the other side of the bed empty, Hernando has a momentary pause of panic before remembering. 

If anyone notices he’s off at work they don’t say anything and Hernando’s grateful. 

At the end of the day, he finds himself driving to Lito’s on autopilot instead of the apartment and curses himself all the while as he doubles back.

+

The calls start while he’s in the middle of a book. 

It’s an old, familiar one that Hernando practically has memorized but rereading it is a comfort. He needs something to be comfortable in this once familiar place that doesn’t quite fit right anymore. 

As soon as the phone lights up, Hernando knows its Lito. He’s been expecting the call all day and had resolved hours ago that he isn’t going to answer. He’s not ready yet. He knows himself well enough to know he’ll cave if he answers now. The warmth and home of Lito’s voice will crumple his resolve but going back now will break him all over again. 

When the calls continue Hernando looks for things to keep him busy. Re-cataloging the books he’s left here. An inventory of the clothing. Cleaning the kitchen he hasn’t really used yet. Dusting everything again. He turns on the TV with no desire to watch, turning the volume up loud enough so the false laughter coming out masks the buzzing of the phone. 

Eventually he decides to just call it a night. Going through the familiar routine of brushing teeth, washing up, and changing clothes while the phone buzzes on. 

He’s staring up at the ceiling when the calls stop. 

He waits and waits for another but none comes and is surprised at the sting of tears in the back of his eyes. He had been wishing for Lito to stop calling for hours but now that he’s stopped Hernando wants to call back. Call and beg Lito to continue. Hernando wants to fall asleep to the sound of Lito reaching out for him but instead silence is his only lullaby as he falls into a restless doze. 

+

He gives up pretending at sleep at four. 

Fetching a glass of water, Hernando returns to the bedroom and sits up tall in the bed with his back straight against the headboard. He picks the phone off the nightstand and punches in his code to begin listening to the dozens of messages. 

The first few are what he expected. “Hernando, it’s me. It’s Lito. Please call me.” “I know you’re upset but please call me Hernando. We need to talk.” “Please pick up, Hernando. I need to speak with you.” 

Along the way, the messages get more desperate and frantic. The words coming out in a rush with fear chasing them. “Hernando. Please pick up the phone. It’s Lito again.” “Hernando, it’s me again. Call me back. It’s very important.” 

Then there’s something about a flip-flop and the bathtub that Hernando doesn’t fully understand and suddenly Lito is crying. 

Raw pain and anguish come through the messages as Lito sobs out and, sitting in a strange bed with time and space separating them, Hernando cries with him. He can feel the tears run down his cheek and then his neck but does nothing to quell them. He can’t see the point; more will surely follow as he finally releases the strangled grip he has on his emotions. 

For a dozen of rambling messages, Lito and Hernando hurt together until Hernando gets to the last of them. 

He pulls in a shaky breath and holds it as he listens to Lito accept the fault. He wants to interrupt with “All I ever wanted was you to be yourself” when Lito talks of striving to be worthy and letting Hernando down. With Lito’s voice flowing through the phone, Hernando listens as Lito talks about missing Hernando’s own and not being able to live without it. 

When the message cuts off abruptly, Hernando cries out in frustration. He wants to call Lito back and demand the rest. He wants to go over there and have it all out. Drag all the pain and hurt and long buried resentments out into the open where they can be seen and heard and felt by all. 

Hernando stands, ready to bolt over there now, when thoughts of Daniela stop him. 

Daniela. The sweet girl with kind eyes. The one he himself had picked out of the lot and pulled into their lives. 

Hernando thinks of those eyes now. The tears in them pooling in the moonlight and the purpling skin around. The fear in them but also, worse than the fear, the resigned acceptance he’d seen before she turned and walked back to the monster. 

He can’t go back. 

He can’t be happy and loved and safe knowing the price that sweet girl is paying. 

When the phone rings again, Hernando jolts. Unsurprisingly, it’s Lito’s smiling face that pops up on the screen and his thumb trembles over it, debating whether or not to answer. He takes too long to decide and the call goes to voicemail again. When the new message notification pops up, Hernando’s thumb hesitates again and, after a moment, he sets the phone down on the bedside table with 1 new message still waiting for him. 

Hernando wanders out into apartment that isn’t home but will have to become it and then back into the bedroom with the bed that isn’t theirs but will have to become his. 

He takes it all in and, with a resigned sigh, leaves the phone innocently on the table still with one unheard message as he heads into the bath to get ready for another day.

+

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com/)


End file.
